Knock Knock
by we all can
Summary: Finding out he would marry Ludwig Beilschmidt (aka the emotionless potato bastard) was the worst moment in Lovino Vargas's life. GerMano, GerIta, Spaita, and Spamano. Will include cursing in the chapters in Romano's POV
1. Chapter 1

"What do you mean I'm marrying Ludwig?!" Lovino was not amused by whatever game his grandfather was playing on him.

All he'd wanted was a bowl of cereal when he went into the kitchen this morning, not some fucking elaborate scheme to make him get married to a potato bastard. "Please tell me you're joking," he pleaded desperately, soon realizing that his grandfather was very much serious and wasn't quite ready to put up with his shit this morning.

Sighing warily, Romulus turned away from the paperwork (_Most likely my contract of freewill_, Lovino thought angrily, having a hard time accepting that his kind, generous grandfather had signed him away to the lowest of the low.) eyes alight with sympathy and sorrow. "I very sincerely sorry, my grandson, but it was either him or one of the Braginski children."

It was not a little known fact that Lovino was terrified of the Adams Family reincarnated, so he was thankful that he wasn't going to be murdered by Natalya (who was quite obsessed with her brother) by marrying said brother, or Ivan for marrying his little sister. Irina wasn't that bad, but he was afraid of what the concequences would be for looking at her generously sized chest in an inappropriate manner.

Most likely being shipped to Russia indefinately and being experimented on. If there was one thing he had learned from the Cold War movies his American friend (?) Alfred enjoyed to send to him by mail, it was that Russia was bad news, and that supporting Communism was the worst thing you could do to offend a full-blooded American man.

And that every Russian would go to hell, but that was beside the point.

"But, why him," he drug out, not willing to admit he was grateful to be marrying the bastard. Smiling slightly, his grandfather lifted a large hand to his shoulder.

"I know you don't want to-"

"-but its for the good of the family," he finished. Something flashed through his mind. _What's gonna happen to Feli? _He voiced his question, which made his guardian chuckle slightly.

"He's marrying the new family in the business's son: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."


	2. Chapter 2

"We're getting married," were the words that flew past Lovino's lips as he stabbed his lasagna, leisurely imagining that stupid German's face.

It was a shame potatoes didn't spew from the plate, along with that damn bastard's blood and guts. Though he wouldn't want to eat entrails (he wasn't some goddamn cannibal) it would be satasfying to see his newly titled "fiance" dead and gone.

Spitting out his water, sparkling droplets falling all over their disgrundled grandfather, Feliciano turned his wide eyes to his older brother, an incredelous expression overtaking his face.

This made Lovino's heart - albeit cold, black and shrivelled- warm with the vibrant glow of pride. A small, miniscule smile curled over his lips, but he covered it quickly with a sweaty palm.

"That's legal now?" The smile vanished as he remembered how dumb his brother was.

Sarcastically, though in good humor, he jibbed, "Yes, Feliciano, we're getting married in Jersey and having gay butt-babies and you'll be their baby mommy while I go out drinking."

Casually taking a large gulp of water and completely ignoring his exasperated _nonno_, he looked seriously into his brother's uncomfortable looking face.

_Way to easy_, he thought as he fought not to smile, lest his brother witness it. He was friends with one of the biggest gossips at their school, and he learned the art of gossip to a perfection.

If he saw, the entire town would know in two days. With a murder of girls at his bidding, Feliciano could move mountains.

Though all he did was talk endlessly about the couples he dubbedc the most adorable, he had a soft spot for preaching about Lovino's good brotherly nature. (Although, his reasioning was biased according to most people.)

The last thing he needed was his bad boy cred being ruined. He needed the female population's attention to survive, and girls love a bad boy. He couldn't live with being a good boy like his brother; sweet, innocent and oblivious were three things he definitely wasn't.

"Come my love," he crooned dramatically, placing a hand on his chest and getting one knee. "let us go to Paris and make love under the stars."

Ignoring his brother's horrified shriek, he leaned over and slapped the back of his head, rolling his eyes as Feliciano let out a relieved sigh.

"You should know I'm never serious around you." He paused for a moment, a smirk sliding over his lips. "Unless its about the potato bastard. That's the fucking truth."

His grandfather, who he had forgotten about during his playful conversation, cleared his throat. Rubbing his eyes and turning a blind eye to Lovino's triumphant smile, he let out a weary sigh.

"As you both know," he began, staring at them piercingly, amber eyes hardening, "we have been having... complications with our business."

He folded his arms, a calloused hand rubbing his half-formed beard. "Due to these problems, I am forced to-"

Lovino cut him off, mocking shock riddling his gasping tone, "Make us male mail-order brides."

Twirling his spaghetti around with a silver fork, he took a large bite, obnoxiously stuffing his face so as not to answer to his grandfather's stern glare.

"What?" he implored in an innocent questioning tone, blinking doe-eyedly at Romulous. "It's true."

Looking to Feliciano, Romulous continued his reasonings in hopes he would understand and not reject the solution as quickly as Lovino had. "Don't listen to him, he's just jealous he can't have you all to himself."

He affirmed he was the winner when Feli hummed in understanding as Lovino turned red in anger and embarassment. "You _are _the fairest in the land," he went on, rejecting his own smirk when Lovino pulled a face, darkening into a maroon color.

"Dumb old man," Lovino sputtered lamely, "it's your fault I'm marrying a potato bastard."

Barring his teeth, he swiftly stated with metaphorical claws unsheathed, "I am _not _eating his wurst behind the school, no matter what that gossiping, Polish bastard says."

His grandfather scoffed. "You act as if that's the basis of my reasoning." A reproachful eyebrow was lifted in curiousity. "It's not!" He folded his arms in an attempt to look serious and authoritive. "My thinking was not based off you giving Ludwig a blow-"

"-up pool," Lovino hissed, flickering his eyes towards Feliciano, the only virgin in the house. Thankfully he continued petting their cat, who writhed and scratched with nonexistent claws, doing nothing to deter Feliciano in his love escapade.

Tapping his shoulder delicately, Lovino retracted his brother away from the feline, who fell to the floor in a mangled pile of screeching fur, running off to hide under Lovino's bed, scheming and plotting a sucessful route to launch himself at the elder Vargas brother.

The cat, albeit loathed Feliciano, found an amourous desire for Lovino, who, in turn, found every reason possible to hate the cat, even going as far as to make the effort to poison the cat's brother, the idiot he was, tried to devour the food, and he panicked, made his brother spit it out, saying that he'd turn into a cat if he ate the catfood. He did, and Lovino made an effort to tolerate the tabby.

Sighing gently, Lovino dropped his silverware to the plate. "I'm going to bed," he stated tiredly, scooting backwards in the chair, he rose, watching his brother exaggeratedly waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to set your alarm Lovi," his grandfather called, laughing at the insult hurtled in his direction.

"FUCK YOU!"


End file.
